


Little Red Riding Hood

by jenaicompris



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenaicompris/pseuds/jenaicompris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a "deleted scene" from <i>Lathbora Viran</i>. I decided it probably isn't going to actually happen, but I already wrote it, so I'm posting it. It's essentially PWP. It doesn't fit the story any more because I wrote it before I wrote...anything else. But I still like it, so I'm sharing it. SPOILERS. Post Corypheus, in Skyhold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Red Riding Hood

I stood outside of the walls of Haven, on the edge of the frozen lake that was settled behind the small army encampment where Cullen and his men stayed. The sky was alight with the moon and stars, reflected on the smooth glass-like surface of the lake that was not dusted with snow. It was cold, but it was always cold in Haven. Moreso at night.

I wrapped the riding cloak that had been my birthday present tighter around myself. It was a brilliant red; one of my favorite colors and apparently very regal. Important. Because that was what I was here. Important.

Twenty-one. If I was where I should have been, I would’ve been out drinking with people from my classes. Partying hard. The ale that Varric had given me earlier had worn off for the most part, a slight hum of alcohol still keeping me warm.  Twenty-one and lost, but found. I was, for these people, the Herald of Andraste. I was the only person that could save them from the tears in the Fade, from the terror of a mage-templar war.

I wasn’t sad, not really. I missed my mom but only so much so because I knew I couldn’t call her. She was probably worried by now, if I had ever existed then. I didn’t know how it all worked, couldn’t fathom what had happened to me – so either my mom was content without ever knowing me, or sad because I was missing. I hoped, for her sake, it was the first one.

I started to think about my mother, then, and my childhood; she used to read me fairy tales when I was a child. My favorite, of course, was Red Riding Hood. The Big Bad Wolf was my favorite in every story.

I was thinking about a little blonde girl wandering to her grandmother’s house when Solas approached from the side, his boots crunching in the snow.

“What big eyes you have,” I murmured to myself and he looked at me, bemused.

“Is that a compliment?”

I laughed a little and shook my head, “It’s not…really anything. There is a story, from my childhood – about a girl that goes to visit her grandmother when she’s sick. The girl has a red riding cloak,” I paused, lifting up the edge of my cloak to emphasize it for his benefit, “and she meets a wolf in the woods. He asks her where she’s going. Well, the wolf wants to eat the little girl so he tells her where there are pretty flowers to pick for her grandmother and she goes to find them – even though her mother told her very specifically not to go off of the path – and the wolf is able to get to her grandmother’s house first. Depending on which version, the wolf eats the grandmother and puts on her nightclothes before getting into her bed. When the little girl gets to the cabin, she sees the wolf and says,-“

“What big eyes you have,” he echoed, nodding a little.

“All the better to see you with, my dear,” I grinned at him, waggling my eyebrows in the silliest way possible.

“And what comes next?”

I moved closed and hesitated only briefly as he watched my movements. I reached up and gently, very lightly, ran my finger along the upper lobe of his ear, “What big ears you have!”

He made a quiet noise in his throat and seemed to be thinking deeply about something before he lifted the opposite hand to my ear and mimicked my motion. I shivered at the feel of it; I wasn’t used to people touching my ears and certainly not used to these exaggerated versions of my ears to begin with. But it was definitely a pleasant shiver. He repeated the phrase I had told him, his low voice rumbling in my chest with the words. This had suddenly taken on a completely different meaning and I was one hundred percent okay with that.

“…all the better to hear you with.”

We were closer then, our bodies not touching but coming close with our breaths. His hand skipped from my ear to my shoulder and back to his side. “And then?” he breathed, his eyes shifting from my own to my lips. I definitely noticed.

“There are many different versions,” I explained softly, lifting a hand to slide it over his upper arm. “Some say, ‘My, what big arms you have’.” I let my hand moved to his, lifting it between us and extending my fingers along his to show the size comparison. “What big hands you have…”

“All the better to touch you with, vhenan,” he murmured and I suppressed the squeak that rose in my throat. He slid his fingers through mine and our hands remained joined as they lowered. I was shaking on the inside, unable to believe that this conversation was actually taking place. He seemed closer then, as if the joining of our hands meant that we could touch elsewhere. “And what comes next, Marrok?”

I felt like I was melting between his eyes and his voice, and the closeness of him but I pushed myself to do what I wanted to because I felt like I would never get another chance. Slowly, shakily, I lifted my unused hand and ran my thumb lightly down his jaw, from below his ear to just before his mouth. I touched the dimple in his chin briefly, unable to keep the smile from my face. Finally, as I began to speak, I watched my thumb graze gently over the swell of his bottom lip. “My, what a big mouth you have…”

What Solas did next will never, not for a second, leave me. He moved quickly and captured my thumb, still on his lip, between his teeth very lightly. His tongue flicked over the pad of my thumb before his mouth released me. I stared, wide-eyed, as I let my hand fall useless back to my side.

“All the better to taste you with, emma vhenan,” he growled – yes, _growled_ – and his hands were on my waist, _beneath_ my cloak.

“Oh, Solas,” I sighed, unable to stop myself despite my best intentions to keep my cool. The smile that quirked his lips made me feel weak in the knees if I wasn’t already and he tugged me flush against his body. One of his hands lifted as the other curved around my lower back, the first curving along my cheek and tilting my head back.

His thumb slid along my cheekbone, more prominent in whatever version of me this was, and it didn’t matter a lick to me that I was out of time and place when Solas’ lips met mine.

Like in those corny rom-coms from back home. Fireworks exploded in my chest and I moved my hands to wrap around him, my elbows at his side as my fingers splayed across the material over his shoulder blades. His hand slid from my cheek into my hair and a constriction replaced the fireworks, but not from lack of oxygen.

His lips meshed with mine in the most beautiful way; they were far too soft to be real, I thought, because I still didn’t believe they could be. After too short a time, he pulled back and looked at me with a strange look in his eyes. He shook his head a little and seemed to be pulling away but I stopped him with one arm as the other lifted, my hand settling across his cheek. I moved both of my hands to set my forearms on his shoulders, fingers intertwined behind his head as I held him close.

Feeling emboldened by the fact that he had initiated the kiss, I leaned close enough to him so that I could very briefly run my tongue, extended to a gentle point, along his lower lip not unlike my thumb earlier. “There is more to taste, emma lath.”

He stiffened for a second but it was only the briefest of moments before he crushed me to him, his mouth hungry against mine. It was almost primal, the way he protectively encased me with his arms as his tongue danced with mine.

I had spent months learning the next phrase. I had read every book I could find about the Elvhen language in my spare time, asked every person I had come into contact with that might possible know the language. Sera had laughed at me.

“Ma’arnuvenin,” I spoke into his ear before taking the tip between gentle teeth, then sliding my tongue over it to soothe it.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” he responded, his hands still against me as I pressed kisses to whatever bare skin I could find.

“Trust me, I’ve spent months figuring out how to say it. I know _exactly_ what I just said.” My words brushed his skin; I wasn’t ready to give up my position just yet. Not until he pushed me away.

He didn’t.

He shuddered and pulled back a little, his hands aligning my face with his. His eyes, a storm gray-blue color, raged with emotions and searched my own. “You have called me your love, said that you need me – Marrok, these are not light-hearted confessions if you mean them.”

“Solas, _I know_ ,” I sighed, lifting my hands to cover his on my face. “I have spent much of my free time learning Elvish so that I might be able tell you in your preferred language. I will say it all in English, if it helps.”

“Please,” he came his choked response.

“I need you, Solas, my love,” I took his hands gently from my face and moved them back to my waist, shifting my hands to his neck and pressing myself against him again.

He hissed out air at my words and moved one of his hands back up into my hair. “I have given you the chance to take it back, emma vhenan'ara. This is dangerous ground we are treading, but I can deny you no longer.”

“I could tell you in Fre-…Orlesian, if you like. J’ai besoin de toi, mon amour. Now, would you kiss me already?” I smiled up at him, rubbing my thumbs lightly over his jawline with my fingers curved around the sides of his neck, below his ears. The voice in my head that I had found to accompany much like a slightly more opinionated conscience was nowhere to be heard, for which I was thankful, especially with all of the dirty thoughts in my head.

With one hand in my hair, he held my head steady while he looked into my eyes. It seemed ages before he leaned in to press his lips to mine again, but I didn’t mind when all was said and done, because the fireworks were exploding and my heart felt bigger than was possible.

At first we took things slowly; we spent much time kissing, our hands skimming over what it could reach above the waist. At one point, Solas removed my cloak and laid it down atop the snow. It would be cold, but it would be worth it. I couldn’t even feel the cold, as intent on Solas as I was. He dropped to his knees near the edge of the cloak and his hands found my hips, turning them to his face. I looked down at him, feeling nervous and excited all at once. His deft fingers undid the ties of my breeches, not a sentence I ever thought I would be saying, and they dropped loosely to my feet. He moved them away before taking my hands to tug me to my knees in front of him. He kissed me for only a short period of time before he removed my top. He stopped, then, a little removed from me as his eyes scanned over my body. I was still in what they call a breastband and underwear, essentially a very tight tube top and granny panties. I did not feel sexy in those, but with his eyes on me I most certainly did. I could almost palpably feel as his gaze raked across my naked skin followed shortly by his staff-calloused hands. The roughness of his palms caused delicious friction against my skin and I was suddenly very aware he was wearing far more clothing than I was. And still, I could not feel the chill of the night air. I felt nothing but Solas, all around me.

I let him touch me to his heart’s content. I wanted him as naked as I was but he seemed as though he had been teetering on the edge of acceptance and I didn’t want to push him. But I really did.

“May I?” he asked, his hands skimming over the tie in the breastband. I nodded and his fingers worked in front of me to undo the knot before he slowly unraveled it from my chest. I wasn’t particularly well-endowed but they were bigger than they looked when strapped down like that. Apparently, Solas seemed to like them as the moment they were freed his hands, followed by his mouth, were exploring them. He was tentative at first but after his fingers rolled my nipple and I couldn’t suppress the moan, there was no stopping him. He had me on my back almost immediately, one hand toying with my left breast while his mouth suckled, nipped, soothed my right one. He kissed a trail between them, switching sides and alternating. I was squirming beneath him, wanting him everywhere at once despite the impossibility of it.

“Solas,” I whimpered, my hand running along the back of his smooth head, “…Solas I want to feel you against me.”

And that was all the clue he needed. As fast as lightning, he removed all of his clothing but his undershorts and was running his hands from my shoulders to knees and back again. Then he repeated with kisses, licks, and nips. Then he hooked his fingers into my underwear and slowly, with a little help from me to lift my hips, shimmied them down my legs. My breath hitched when he spread my legs with his rough, warm hands and again when I felt his tongue dart out along my opening. I nearly died when it followed a line upwards, swirling around the most sensitive part of my body. I felt like I was shaking from need and when his tongue made the same trek again and I couldn’t keep my pleasure to myself any longer. I had never said a word before in the same way I said his name; it was a whimpering moan, a plea, a beg. It was every ounce of desire I felt, every modicum of need.

“If you do that again,” he murmured, his breath ghosting across my clit and causing me to squirm, “this won’t last nearly as long.” Despite the thinly veiled threat, his need-deepened voice sounded amused.

He used his tongue until I was bucking my hips against him, his hands holding my thighs down to keep my from squeezing against his head. He lifted one hand and I felt his fingers trail to the place that I needed him the most. While his tongue lavished attention on the center of my nerves, his finger made its maiden voyage into my slickened heat. It didn’t take long with that combination to have me crash over the edge. I had touched myself before, many times, but this was new; it was a full body, shaking everywhere, literally screaming with ecstasy sort of orgasm. I thought too late of the encampment of our soldiers not too far away but decided not to mention it for fear of scaring him off. I couldn’t lose him, not then.

He caressed me with digit and tongue until my bucking subsided and my body stilled, at which point he withdrew his finger from me and slid it into his mouth before removing it with a light ‘pop’. He had the look of the cat that got the canary – or maybe the cream, har har – before he stood long enough to remove his own lower clothing. He made to come back to my level but I stilled him with my hand.

“I want to see you,” I told him, moving to my watery knees and looking at him against the brilliance of the far-off moon. “You are exquisite,” I sighed in contentment, running my hands up his long legs to his hips. I had a little experience with men but I wasn’t necessarily the best one to make comparisons of size. To me, he looked perfectly deliciously perfect. I know that doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t matter. Solas, standing in front of me with the light of the moon illuminating his body, was exactly what I wanted. I wouldn’t say he was hung like a horse, but I didn’t expect myself to be left wanting in any way at all.

“No, you,” he replied as he bent at the waist, tilting my head back almost all the way so that he could bestow a kiss upon my lips. I tasted what I thought was me but it wasn’t bothersome; I barely thought about it. “…are the most magnificent creature I have ever seen.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” I smiled up at him and moved closer to him, settling my hands on his hips briefly before sliding one loosely down his erection. He hissed out a breath and caught my hand before it could make another pass.

“Another time, emma lath,” he shook his head, joining me on my knees until he kissed me onto my back again. “There is only one part of you that I want to feel around me right now.”

He laid me down on my back, caressing my face gently as he settled on his knees between my legs. Both of his hands ran up my thighs and one dipped between them, touching me just enough to make sure that I was ready for him.

“Are you absolutely sure you want this, Marrok?” he asked me again and I lifted my back from my cloak, slipping a hand behind his neck and tugging him down to me. He followed me back, one hand moving to prop himself up as I pulled him against my lips.

“I’ve wanted this from the first day we met, Solas. There is something about you, it reflects something in me. I don’t know who I am, where I am, or what I am – but I do know that I want to be whoever I am with you.”

The look on his face mirrored how I felt and he found my lips again, fierce with passion, for quite a few minutes before he even slowly began to maneuver himself into me. It was slow and gentle, the sort of love-making that makes your heart swell in your chest. Between the orgasm building and the love blooming inside of me, I thought I was going to die by the time he broke against his need to satiate himself and propelled himself in and out of me until I was practically screaming his name, my uneven nails digging into the skin of his back and his moan of my name and more Elvish hot against my neck.

He stilled against me, propped on his forearms on either side of my head with his legs between mine, the latter wrapped tightly around his hips. I loosened my arms around him but thought better of it and pulled him close to me, finding his lips as I embraced him. “Ma…ma’arlath,” I murmured against his lips, the deep feeling in my heart spilling over and rushing out of my mouth in words that were not my own. The voice in my head was still, thankfully, silent.

He seemed to freeze against me at those words and I swear there was the glitter of tears in his eyes as he dropped his head onto the crook where my neck met my shoulder. He kissed my collarbone before nipping the tender skin there; he moved his mouth to the curve of my neck and bit me hard enough to leave a mark. I gasped but did nothing but squirm my hips towards his.

“You are mine, ma sa’lath,” he spoke against the still-throbbing mark he left before he moved his mouth and left another mark on my shoulder; neither would show, I know. But I would see them. And that was enough.

“I am yours,” I responded, trailing my fingers along the pointed edge of his ear before he sighed and lifted himself off of me.

He began to dress slowly but I didn’t move, watching him as he did so with the background of the night sky behind him. It looked much the same as it had when I had found it, before he found me.

“There is much to be done,” he spoke softly, dressed and watching me.

“There always is,” I responded, frowning a little. “I understand that we have a world to save, but that is no reason to forget that we, too, are living. Sweet baby Jesus, I’m starting to talk like you.” I stood slowly, finding my clothes.

“Who is this baby Jesus?”

“I’ll tell you some other time. For right now, you go do…your things, and I’ll find my way to bed.”

“Are you certain you would not like me to accompany you?”

“No...I’ll be fine.”

He smiled sadly at me before he reached out to touch my cheek. “I certainly hope you will.”

He turned away from me and left me, standing next to the frozen lake naked. I stood there for a long while, waiting for the cold to hit me.

It didn’t. I frowned a little, looking down at my skin. No gooseflesh, nothing. When I looked up again, a dark, winged-shape blotted out the moon.

The shriek the dragon made had me falling onto my ass, staring up. With eyes wide, I watched helplessly as it dove towards me. As its snapping jaws drew ever-closer, I closed my eyes as tightly as I could and prayed to every god I had ever heard of.

I gasped, flinging myself into a seat position on my bed.

A dream.

Of course it was a dream.

 _Sleep well_? The voice asked me and I suppressed a groan, wishing it would stay silent. I still wasn’t wholly convince my “friend” wasn’t a demon. I still didn't know what to call, although I was leaning towards Falon. The voice had suggested I learn the Elvhen language and so I chose an Elvhen word. I wasn’t sure if “friend” was accurate or not, but it was the best I had. I couldn’t very wall talk to anyone about it.

“No, I didn’t bloody well sleep well. I had the best dream in the history of dreams and then I got eaten by Corypheus’ dragon,” I grunted, shoving my blankets away before finding the washbasin on my dresser.

We weren’t in Haven any more, but in a dream world it’s hard to recognize the truth. I had turned twenty-one something like seven months beforehand. We had spent eleven months at Haven before Corypheus attacked us; my birthday was two months before the attack. We had been without a place for a little under a month between me having to find my comrades, desperation, and finally our trek across the wilderness to Skyhold. It had been a little over six months since we had first stepped foot in Skyhold and I was going absolutely crazy.

I was head over heels for Solas and it may very well have been because he seemed not to care a whit about me. That isn’t entirely true. He was kind and he listened, he offered advice, and he spoke to me as often as possible – always made time for me _._

And I was dreaming about him. This wasn’t the first one, but certainly the most intense.

I splashed air-cooled water on my face and dried myself with the scratchy towel-like piece of fabric set aside for such things.

“I can pretty much always guess when it’s a dream, even if I don’t want to acknowledge it. You aren’t in my head when I’m dreaming any more.”

 _I can leave you alone, da’len. You just need to say the word_.

“I don’t know,” I frowned a little, staring into the mirror and tugging at my hair. “It’s nice having you around. You know everything already. I don’t have to worry about you thinking I’m absolutely crazy when I tell you.”

_Are you going to tell him, then?_

“I have to, don’t I? I have to tell all of them. At least the advisors. Leliana knows already; I have no idea what she told Josephine. But Josie, Cullen, and Cassandra need to know. And if I’m telling them, I have to tell Solas – it wouldn’t be right not to, not with how I feel. But if I tell him, I feel like I have to tell Varric, Dorian, Bull, Sera, and Cole too. Cole knows, I think, but he doesn’t know what he knows. I don’t think Blackwall will care either way but I really should just sit them all down and tell them. What do you think I should do?”

 _What feels right. You are the only one that can do this for them; they will not turn away. It may be difficult for them to understand but, if you give them time, they will_.

“So tell Solas, and then the advisors? Then everyone else.”

_Sounds amenable to me, lethal’lan._

“What should I wear?” I spoke aloud, frowning a little as I looked through the clothes Josephine and Vivienne had procured for me. I dreaded telling her; I didn’t think she would like it very much. She would probably think I was an abomination or something.

_Whatever you wear, wear your cloak._

“Why?”

_Trust me._

So I did. I wore the simple tunic and breeches I wore more often than not around the keep and took my sweet time. I did my Inquisitorial duty by signing massive amounts of paperwork and saying hello to various dignitaries that were visiting before I found a piece of fruit and some cheese to nibble on for breakfast.

I took to the grounds in an effort to avoid Solas, visiting my companions and the stables as well.

After spending twenty minutes brushing a steed that I had just seen the stable boy with, the voice made a reappearance.

 _I know what you are doing, emm’asha_.

“Hush,” I murmured, dusting off my hands and handing a copper to the stable boy just because. I waved at Blackwall as I passed through the barn before I made my way back to the main building to locate Solas. “Happy?” I whispered to myself as I stood outside of his doorway.

 _I will be_.

I rolled my eyes, knowing the mental concept would carry on to Falon. I lifted my hand and knocked.

“Solas?”

“Come in,” he called back and I turned the handle, finding him seated at his desk. When he looked up and saw me, the look that passed over his face was a curious one. It was a mixture of happiness, confusion, concern, and desire.

Was my "conscience" right about the cloak? Did he so much like red?

“Hi, Solas. I…are you busy? Am I interrupting something?”

He shook his head and put down the book that he had held before he stood, clasping his hands behind his back. “What has brought you to see me, Marrok?”

“I have…there’s something I need to talk to you about. A couple of things, actually. I don’t really know what order to tell you them in, but I feel like I definitely need to tell you all of it.”

“Would you like to go somewhere more…amenable?” he smiled his light smile, just the edge of his lips curled up but his eyes crinkling.


End file.
